Up to the eyeballs in hippy crap? The mere mention of a ‘Brooklyn band’ likely to induce projectile vomiting of your tie-dyed innards? Well, swallow hard, gummo: there’s a new breed of doom-mongers lurking out of New York’s dark crevices and it’s anything but quirky. Outcasts on their own turf, Crystal Stilts’ swathes of maudlin garage-pop guitars and sparse drums borrow as much from The Cramps’ rockabilly punk and the haphazardness of The Jesus And Mary Chain on ‘Graveyard Orbit’ and ‘The Dazzled’ as their demure vocals do from a Brian Wilson-obsessed Joey Ramone on ‘Prismatic Room’. The crepuscular glow of this quartet should be embraced; being this fucking miserable has never been so blissful.